Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Norway and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing LL Cool J to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Monochrome Set,
Malaria!,
Graham Central Station,
Brick,
Michelle Simonal,
Angry Samoans,
Pagans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Trumans Water,
Circle Jerks,
Sun Ra,
Al Stewart,
Little Man,
the Slits,
Yaz,
Supertramp,
Franke,
Crash Course in Science,
The Toasters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Underground Resistance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
X-102,
Toni Rubio,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sun City Girls,
Fear,
Hoover,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cybotron,
Grey Daturas,
The Music Machine,
Neil Young,
Jawbox,
The Real Kids,
Slick Rick,
Judy Mowatt,
Kas Product,
Jimmy McGriff,
Robert Görl,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Cure,
Joy Division,
Ronnie Foster,
Eurythmics,
ABC,
Soulsonic Force,
DJ Sneak,
Minnie Riperton,
ABBA,
Saccharine Trust,
Arthur Verocai,
Loose Ends,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
cv313,
Mark Hollis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
These Immortal Souls,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.